


Natural Aptitude for Fall

by marmota_b



Series: Painkiller [3]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Punisher (Comics)
Genre: Blood & Glory (Comics), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 14:32:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4225473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmota_b/pseuds/marmota_b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Frank Castle lost his footing in a particularly egregious manner, Crowley gave him a nudge upwards. There were times Crowley wasn't very good at the "demon and tempter" thing; this was one of those times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Natural Aptitude for Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bright with his Splendour](https://archiveofourown.org/works/99482) by [Daegaer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer). 



> Once upon a time, [I threw this title at daegaer in a title meme](http://daegaer.livejournal.com/1159995.html); daegaer came back with " _Natural Aptitude for Fall is a series of multi-fandom crossover vignettes showing several ways in which characters put their souls or their integrity at risk, and how Crowley in each case saves them from themselves. Throughout the series he very carefully doesn't think about what he's doing._ "  
> It stuck in my mind. Daegaer never got around to writing that series, and neither did I, but when I started playing in the Painkiller AU sandbox, this came out at the edges.  
> Just like the origins of the Painkiller AU, this centers on the Blood & Glory comics in which there is a violent conspiracy in the US government, Frank is tricked into killing Steve by clues that Captain America is behind it, and ends up working with him when a government official comes to him with proof of Steve's innocence.  
> It could be treated as part of the AU, or as a standalone crossover with the original comics. Inside the Painkiller AU, this is probably non-canon, although there isn't necessarily anything to prevent it from being canon. :-)

It was embarrassing in an extreme. As if being a pathetic man with prescriptive glasses and a toupee was not enough, he had to get himself attacked... and rescued by another patron of the diner. Who turned out to be Captain America.

Just wonderful. He must have felt the overbearing goodness emanating from the man, but he had not paid attention, so focused he had been on the task before him... which had been dubious at best. Sure, there were certain people who deserved the sort of punishment Frank Castle delivered, and having those people sent to Hell was a fine thing to cause. So he felt himself justified in turning Castle on their trail. Only... it had not quite turned out the way he had imagined.

He could not approach Frank Castle in his usual form; he’d be instantaneously suspicious. He had to look pathetic. So he did, as much as he hated looking that way. But he just couldn’t get done with it, could he, he had to satisfy his curiosity, hadn’t he? “Why did you do it?” The answer he got – “All wars start with a betrayal” – was cryptic at best, and also disconcerting because it cut too close to home. It didn’t satisfy his curiosity, and curiosity nearly killed Crowley. Well, it would have killed his current form, anyway, if it hadn’t been for the man who was supposed to be dead. That meant the Punisher had not really killed Captain America. And _that_ meant... Crowley did not even know what that meant.

And he could not even blame this one on the Agreement. It had been all his idea.

He got away from the hospital ward as soon as no one was looking, hurried back as fast as possible, in total disregard to the laws of physics, and watched in utter disbelief as the two men struck a deal. The Punisher _with_ Captain America. Well, it could be an effective way to have those certain people sent to Hell... but it could _also_ be a very effective way of having Frank Castle delivered from it.

But come to think of it, he’d hate to see the Punisher in Hell. It was much more fun to have him blazing here.

 

* * *

 

“You owe me, angel,” announced one of the men standing beneath a single huge tartan-patterned umbrella in the middle of the Arlington cemetery. “You owe me big.”

The man who had spoken was wearing a World War One era British Captain’s greatcoat that was highly incongruous with his apparent age.

The other man, the camel coat-wearing owner of the umbrella, peered through the rain at the two figures in the Amphitheatre, tut-tutting at his companion.

“I drove them together,” the younger man pressed on. “You owe me, big.”

“No, I don’t,” the older man said cheerfully. “You never planned this. And you did not do it for me, anyway. You did it for him.”

“I most certainly did not.”

The unswerving angel turned to him abruptly and said:

“Explain the coat, then.”

The curious officer groaned.

“It’s called _blending in with your surroundings_ ,” he said. “Something _you_ ’ve never learned.”

“You’re sentimental,” the man thus accused beamed at him. “You’re _so_ sentimental, indeed.”

The accuser murmured something incomprehensible.

“There’s no way someone like you would blend in in a 1910s coat,” the angel said. “British, too, in an American cemetery.”

The man in the conspicuous coat did not reply. They both silently watched as the two men before them parted their ways, only to stop and salute each other moments later.

The angel made an a-ha! sound.

“OkayIadmititIfeelforanoldsoldiersatisfied?” the man at his right hand fired at him in the manner of one who wanted something over and done away with before he changed his mind.

The angel laughed, in the way of angels that is pure bliss to some and pure terror to others.

“And stop it now, I’m getting a headache,” the dark-haired demon murmured. Traditional categories never quite managed to apply to him. “Let’s get out of here, shall we? If we stand in this _blessed_ rain much longer, I’ll blend in _literally_.”

“He's not a soldier; he's a Marine.” the angel said, “ And while we are at it, I do not think driving a pristine 1923 Bentley is much in the way of blending in, either.”

**Author's Note:**

> Presumably, it's the last piece in the series where Crowley can no longer ignore what it is he's doing.


End file.
